Deal of a Lifetime
by Child of Loki
Summary: Chris LaSalle and Meredith Brody make a One Time Only deal... only it doesn't seem to want to stay that way. Cherri (Chris/Merri). Now Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**NCIS: New Orleans **_**or its characters…**

**Author's Note: Just when I think I'm finally going to be free of my writing vice, I find a new fanfiction plaguing me horribly… HELP! I'll never get my original novels written! (Is there a support group somewhere for this issue?)**

**WARNING: References to Mature Subject Matter. Nothing Explicit (yet). CHERRI (Chris/Merri) all the way!**

* * *

Chris had left a t-shirt and jogging shorts out for her. The shirt was a pretty good fit, which wasn't too surprising. Her partner wasn't a large man, just a well-built one, so she wasn't swimming in the garment. It was loose in the waist and shoulders but just roomy enough in the bust, worn to a lovely degree of softness and smelled of Chris -a scent she still hadn't yet pinned down, even after investigating all of his few toiletries. She passed on the shorts, however, figuring he'd already seen much more than her naked legs, so what did it matter if she wandered around only in bra, underwear and his old college t-shirt?

That was a mistake, Merri realized all too late when she followed her nose to the kitchen where breakfast was being prepared, and saw Cade sitting at the table, while Chris fried up some eggs at the stove. The older LaSalle brother grinned broadly at her, and her first instinct was to flee back to the bedroom to put on those shorts, but he was already saying 'Mornin', Agent Brody' and it would not only have been rude to leave then, but she suddenly realized the boyshort cut of her lace underwear would give him a much more intimate view of her backside than she ever wanted to expose to the man.

So instead, she hastily took up an empty chair at the table, hiding her practically naked lower half beneath the table, and returned his greeting.

"Good morning, Cade," she said. Chris glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of her voice and smiled at her in a ridiculously happy way. She smiled back just as stupidly. And the notion she'd had in the shower returned to her. It was still only one-time, even if it stretched on through the following day... and maybe night. As long as they weren't apart, technically it was all the same event...

"When did you get in last night?" she asked of Cade nonchalantly, as if it hadn't been a concern of Chris', the only thing that had momentarily distracted him from his night-long attentions to her.

"'Bout 2:30 in the am," he replied, getting up and fixing Merri a cup of coffee and putting it before her, which she thanked him heartily for. She watched him like a hawk, trying to pick up any signs of his mental state, knowing Chris might not ask her directly, but would appreciate the second opinion about his brother. She wanted to be able to tell her friend that he didn't need to worry, but late nights were part of the more destructive cycle of Cade's disorder.

"So an early night?" Chris said, trying to play it off.

"Yup. I needed a good night's sleep after the day I had at work," Cade said. He'd gotten a job with a construction company, and it kept him busy, the jobs tended to be short and varied, which also held his wandering attention better. Chris had been glad when the steady work showed signs of doing his brother good.

Cade grinned, an all too familiar mischievous glint in his eye when he looked at Merri.

"Not that I did get any with the racket ya two were makin' all night."

Merri wasn't shocked. She was waiting for the teasing to commence. It was inevitable with the LaSalle brothers. She'd been exposed to many a tease-fest the more time she spent with Chris, and consequently Cade. This however, did make her a little nervous, since normally she could just stand back and watch, but this time she resided at the heart of the topic itself.

Chris put a platter of eggs, bacon and toast in the center of the table, handed out plates and silverware, before he sat down himself, with a theatrical sigh.

"I blame this one," he said, pointing his fork at Merri. "When's she's not screaming down the house, she's makin' these interestin' li'l-"

She promptly kicked him in the shin, making him grunt and then laugh.

"Oh, you're worse than I am," she said, figuring _if you couldn't beat 'em, join 'em_. "Don't you know there's other things you can do with your mouth than talk when you're in bed with a woman?"

Cade's slightly deeper chuckle joined his brother's.

"Ouch. Ya wound me, woman," Chris said, knowing just as well as she that he'd shown her precisely all the wonderful things he could do with that mouth of his, in addition to talking her ear off.

They exchanged a lengthy glance, obviously thinking about exactly the same installment of the previous night's sex marathon, when he had her on her back with her legs thrown over his shoulders, parting her thighs with his strong hands and holding her in place while he used his tongue to... She wondered if maybe he was also thinking, like her, that this meal was just another, longer break in the same carnal event they'd begun last evening. They'd dozed here and there, cuddled, touched, teased, played, tasted, aroused, fucked, and made love. There was even the occasional (okay, more than occasional) sucking and biting. Merri hadn't examined herself closely in a mirror, but she was certain she'd find the soft pinkish brown bruising of love bites and hickies scattered about her body. She couldn't complain, either, for she'd given Chris the same treatment.

"Jesus, ya two want I should get gone for awhile, 'efore ya combust right here at the breakfast table?" Cade interrupted the heated stare between the yet-new lovers.

Merri hastily looked down at her plate, and picked up a biteful of egg to shove in her mouth, desperately trying to stop considering what it felt like to have Chris' naked body at her disposal and yearning to possess it once more.

"That's alright, Cade," Chris said. "We'll keep it PG for ya."

"So how long have ya been hookin' up anyway?" Cade asked between bites of toast. "I always thought there was somethin' between ya, but face it baby brother, Merri's way outta your league."

Now Merri was really blushing. She'd never been sure what her partner's older brother thought of her, even thought they got along fairly well, when they were hanging out at Chris' place and Cade was there, too. When you befriend a person who lives with a sibling, you by default befriend the sibling as well. The fact that he openly approved of her being involved with his baby brother gave her a warm spot in her chest. Not that she and Chris were anything more than friends. And this one time. Just one time, that's what they'd agreed, that's what she'd talked him into when she'd showed up at his door, sexually frustrated beyond reason and wanting him, the only man she trusted enough to go to bed with. Sure, she'd been on a few dates with Dr. ? Wilkins, and she liked him. But she didn't know him yet. And she wasn't going to have sex with him before they were even really dating.

"That she is, brother," Chris said after a minute or two. "An' we're not together."

"Oh," Cade said, lowering his voice and leaning in conspiratorially. "Keepin' the relationship secret?"

"No," Merri said. "We're not dating."

"Casual sex thing?"

"Not quite..." Chris said, blushing more than a little.

"Friends with benefits?"

Chris and Merri both shook their heads. Friends, yes. Benefits, plural, no. One time only deal.

Cade had a very confused look on his face now, which only confirmed to Merri what she had always expected. Chris LaSalle was not a one-night stand sort of guy, despite all of his supposed 'womanizing' and undeniable charms.

"Well, no matter what ya got goin' on between the two of ya, ya can count on me to keep my trap shut," Cade announced as he cleaned up the last bite of egg on his plate. "I won't tell that Agent Pride of yours. Or any of t'others. Or..." He looked sharply at Chris for a moment. "...Savannah."

And with that, Cade got to his feet, put his plate in the sink and left. Merri turned her gaze on her partner-friend-temporary-lover. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and her stomach suddenly felt hollow despite the eggs and toast filling it up.

"You said last night that you and Savannah aren't an item, Chris."

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**A/N: You already know there will likely be more... because I just can't stay away. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Guess what I was doing all weekend, instead of working on projects that need to get done? ;-)**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE SUBJECT MATTER (SMUT)**

"I didn't lie to ya, Merri," he said, staring straight into her large, dark eyes. They were gorgeous eyes... in an awe-inspiring, terrifying sort of way. They were simultaneously one of the most beautiful things he'd ever encountered, so expressive and intelligent... and absolutely the most frustrating, how she could possess eyes so big and seemingly open yet keep so much hidden.

He heard is brother cross the apartment, fumbling with the sticky old latch on the front door. Dammit, Cade. Having him close, in his own home was both wonderful and infuriating... sorta like Merri's eyes. It was a relief to not wonder where he'd gotten to in the big old, dangerous world, whether he was even alive. But the price was that Chris was now responsible for him, not to just keep an eye on him, make sure he was fed and that he came home at night, but to try to keep tabs on his brother's mental state, to catch him before he fell, as it were.

"I wanna tell ya 'bout Savannah," he said. Honestly, talking with the woman he'd just spent all the previous night -right up until dawn- making love to, about another woman who he'd been half in love with before, wasn't at all something he wanted to do. But clearing up the misunderstanding that was obviously taking place was something he _needed_ to do. He couldn't lose Merri, even if the sex was a one-time-only thing, she was still a friend, a good one, and his partner. The front door creaked open and slammed shut, drawing his attention sharply away from Merri's pretty, and currently unreadable face.

"Go," she said, and when he looked back at her, her expression was much softer, sympathetic.

"I'll be right back." He was already on his feet sprinting for the door before Cade could disappear on him without explanation. Normally, he wouldn't be too concerned, tried not to be harassing, since Cade had made a couple of friends (that didn't appear to have destructive habits) in the city. But there was something a little off about him lately...

"Cade, wait!" He caught his brother up, and they both stood in awkward silence for a moment, Chris uncomfortable and embarrassed, Cade frustrated but resigned.

"Ya wanna know where I'm goin'?" he asked, then added with a grin before Chris could confirm the reason he'd frantically ran out of the house to stop his brother was out of his sense of responsibility and concern, to check up on the older man like he were a small child, "So you know 'bout when I'll return, so as I don't catch you buck ass naked with that fetchin' partner of yours, goin' at it like rabbits in the middle of the livin' room?"

Chris felt his cheeks turn even redder. He could only nod in silent concession.

"Well, if ya recall it's Saturday mornin' an' I have a group session down at the clinic in twenty minutes."

"Right," Chris said, cursing himself for acting such a fool when if he'd just thought about it for half a minute he would've remembered. "Give me a minute and I'll give ya a lift."

"Ya don't need ta do that, baby brother." He clapped him hard on the shoulder. "I could use the walk. And ya have a guest ta entertain. I promise I won't wander off, or take candy from strangers. An' I'll be back well before supper."

What could Chris do? If he pushed the matter, he would only upset Cade, and rightly so, with what was smothering behavior. He could offer all the help he could, but he couldn't force his brother to take it, or even to tolerate what must often seem like coddling.

"Alright, I'll see ya in a couple hours," Chris said, calling after his brother's back as he turned and began to walk down the sidewalk, "Don't wander off the path,. And beware of wolves, brother."

Cade waved him off with a loud chuckle.

When Chris returned to the kitchen he found Merri washing the dishes, his old 'Bama t-shirt riding up as she moved so that her lace-covered backside was completely on display. Damn. He had not given those underwear their due consideration last evening, before they'd been removed and flung onto his bedroom floor in their lewd haste to get nekked. The blue lace hugged the curves of her ass like a second skin, outlining each shapely buttock in all of its pure round glory. The cut of them ran just above the hip, the bottom edge not even near covering her delectable ass. In fact, part of a purplish blemish peaked out of the bottom of the lace, a bite mark he had left in the middle of her left buttock. The muscles in her flanks tensed and released, a mesmerizing dance beneath the skin as she reached to place dishes in the upper cupboards.

After watching her for a minute, Chris shifted his weight, growing uncomfortable from the rapidity and severity of his burgeoning arousal. After the ridiculously vigorous usage over the past twelve or so hours, he sort of thought he might just have worn out the warranty on his equipment. But apparently not. Which was good to know for a man who'd recently realized he was closer to 40 than he was to 20. But he supposed that any heterosexual man who didn't respond to the sight of Meredith Brody's half-naked ass doing a little dance as she washed the dishes and hummed to herself likely had no pulse.

The minx continued her little display, and because he knew her well, Chris knew that it was done for his full benefit, that there was absolutely zero chance that she wasn't fully aware of his presence as he lingered in the doorway, and then slowly crossed the kitchen to stand behind her, placing his hands on her wriggling hips. They shimmied in a more exaggerated manner, her bottom pushing back against his crotch and drawing a groan from deep in his chest. Oh, she was just asking for it. But wasn't there a reason not to just jump her in his kitchen? Even though they were alone... He'd wanted to talk to her about somethi-oh, dear lord, her hands had found his, guided them to her full breasts so that he could feel the hard points of her nipples through the fabric of bra and shirt beneath his palms. He squeezed her gently, her flesh enticing, not too supple, not too firm, filling his hands, just _mm_... Why did every time he touch her feel like the first, full of new wonder and unbearable anticipation? She moaned with an enthusiasm that rivaled his own.

That was it. He couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her slightly and spun her around, pushing her towards the kitchen table, a chair clattering against the edge as she fell against the wooden back, and then he himself was falling to his knees to place kisses on her lovely heart-shaped bottom. He gingerly tongued the bruise he'd marked her flesh with through the lace of her panties, and she made the strange little chirping noise he'd threatened to tell Cade about during breakfast. Every new quirk he discovered about the outwardly reserved woman only made Chris like her more, want her more. He divested her of the garment, and when she readily complied to his bending her over the back of the chair, he proceeded to take her with unreserved eagerness. That gorgeous ass of hers, as he'd learned at around 2am that morning, cushioned the thrusts of his hips with such perfection that she seemed made to be taken from behind, by him.

Then again, they fit together so well in so many different positions, that it was already apparent to him that their bodies were unbelievably compatible, one might even say _designed_ for one another. God, being inside of her was unlike anything he'd experienced before. And he couldn't really say why, except that maybe it was just how perfectly she fit him, snug yet accommodating (with a little effort she could take him fully). Both soft and resistant. Warm. And wet. And most of all, best of all, responsive. Her every reaction to his touch, his kiss, his penetration, it only sent him higher into the bliss that was discovering Merri Brody in all her complex glory. She was currently breathing hard, panting really, her muscles quivering beneath her creamy skin in apparent indecision as to whether to relax into the frantic pace of his aggressive thrusts or to tense in outright resistance of his invasion. Despite the apparent doubts of her body, however, Merri was calling out his name in what was a decidedly encouraging manner, so he lay a hand on the small of her back and gently ran it up along her spine, beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt, and back down, massaging her lower back, coaxing her body into relenting as he mercilessly rammed his hips into the cushioning swell of her buttocks, driving himself as deeply as he could inside of her.

The last time before they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms that morning, for a whole four hours of uninterrupted slumber, they'd made love in a slow, languid coupling that was half-daze and half-dream. It'd been gentle and quite satisfying in its way. But now, apparently his more primal sex drive had taken over entirely and by the time he finished in a blaze of endorphins that threatened to explode his brain, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't now lie down and die, having theoretically successfully procreated, like so many creatures in the animal kingdom did. Except, it wasn't possible that he'd impregnated Merri. Okay, 'impossible' wasn't a completely correct word with birth control... just 'improbable.' But either way his body didn't know that. And his heart was still beating so rapidly in his chest as he lay on the kitchen floor taking in deep, ragged draughts of air that he wasn't sure if it might just fail him, as Merri clutching at the chair, sort of melted to kneel beside him. He reached for her and pulled her down on top of him, to find her just as breathless, making whimpering noises in the back of her throat that he knew were the signs of an orgasm that hadn't entirely dissipated from her nervous system, continuing to send jolts of pleasure through her in the afterglow of sexual release.

Well, he supposed that answered the question of whether he'd successfully gotten her off that time 'round when he'd been admittedly quite selfishly focused.

She was stroking his chest with her cool fingertips, which she'd slipped beneath his shirt to tease his sweat-coated skin.

"Do you do this with Savannah?"

He blinked as the words attempted to settle in his overwrought brain.

"What?"

"Savannah," Merri said, her tone smooth and even, quiet, almost sleepy, yet her words were undeniably weighted. "Do you and she do this sort of thing?"

"Ya mean fuck in the kitchen and then lie completely spent, cuddlin' on the cold floor before breakfast's even been fully cleared?" he said, cupping the round swell of one of her buttocks, squeezing it possessively, running his fingers down between her thighs to feel the sticky residue of their recent coupling. How could she think he'd do this to her, be with her in such a soul-stripping, intimate way when he was seeing another woman?

"Yeah..." Did he detect some insecurity in her voice? He put a knuckle beneath her chin, urged her to lift her face from where it was buried in his neck to look into his eyes.

"No," he said. "Savannah and I ain't any more a couple than you and Dr. Wilkins. We been out a few times, mostly lunch. But nothin' serious."

"Mm..."

She didn't sound convinced, and he wasn't sure why he felt the intense compulsion to explain the situation to her, that Savannah and him weren't like that, weren't like _this_. His old crush didn't make him want to throw all caution to the wind, didn't make him aware of every inch of his flesh, how all of his nerves hummed for her, craved her, Meredith Brody. Hell, Savannah didn't even know him as well as Merri did. She knew the old him, the boy he used to be. And in some ways that was worse than trying to date a complete stranger, because she _thought_ she knew all about him, and therefore didn't really try to learn who he now was. Rather than being new and exciting, dates with Savannah had dragged him backwards into his past, which was fine... for a little while. He liked reminiscing, was admittedly a somewhat nostalgic man. But without even existing in the present, it was difficult to look to the future. Thus, he'd been seeing her less and less frequently. And he'd never gone to bed with her. Didn't even kiss her, really. Okay, he'd kissed her, because she _was_ pretty and he did always wonder what it would be like. And it was nice. But after the previous night, after kissing Merri... he might as well had been that teenage boy with a crush sharing an awkward kiss with the girl next door when he'd kissed Savannah that one night after walking her to her door. On the other hand, Merri's kisses ran the spectrum from sweet to unbearably passionate, but always treated him as an equal, as a knowledgeable and worthy partner, almost like he were the only man she ever wanted to kiss.

She made love to him the same way.

It would be difficult to let this go. But he'd promised. So he'd suffer the withdrawal. But maybe 'one time' could mean 'one whole weekend'...

"You fall asleep on me?"

Her fingers absently traced teasing circles around his left nipple.

"Nah," he said, stroking her unkempt hair. God, he loved the ridiculously tousled mess it was, _she was_, when she wasn't all organization and neatness, when she purposefully lost control. "I was jus' thinkin' 'bout how I could convince ya that there ain't nothin' between Savannah an' me…

'Bout why I thought I _needed_ ta convince ya..."

"When we're just having a brief, no-strings affair?" Merri said, he looked down at her, saw the apologetic expression on her face. She wasn't angry with him... but had she been jealous? When she was the one that set the terms of their deal?

"Speaking of…" He grabbed her hips suggestively rocking his pelvis against hers. "Should we return this to the bedroom?"

**A/N: I think I know why I have a reputation for writing smut, now… But, god, it's strangely addicting to write. (I apparently have issues.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: You have no idea how easy this one is for me to write, and how tempting. But I need to practice my other writing skills besides the smut, now don't I? Or, do I? ;-)**

**Spoilers: This includes characters and characterizations from the entire series so far… including Brody's personal life developments in 1x18.**

* * *

Damn.

This was why Merri had tried so fricken hard not to even _have _a personal life. And she'd been doing so well...

Then CGIS Agent Abigail Borin had sort of talked her into dating Sam Wilkins, compounded by encouragement from her coworkers who held a vested interest in seeing her develop ties to the area, knowing about her history of running off as it were. Which she should've considered sweet, and she had, _she did_. They liked her. And they wanted her to stick around. And she liked them. She even quite liked Sam.

And she especially liked Chris LaSalle.

But not at the moment. At the moment, he'd invaded her personal space, which wasn't normally a huge problem. Hell, she'd let him truly violate her personal space, well and good, quite a number of times that -_mm_\- wonderful weekend a couple months ago now. Actually, she'd been the one who had seduced him, really. Well, that sounded duplicitous. It was a mutually arrived at decision, even though she'd been the one who showed up at his door with the suggestion when her frustrated libido simply couldn't stand anymore. It had been just the one weekend. And considering the things they now knew about one another, it surprisingly hadn't interfered with their working relationship, with what she'd like to believe was a pretty good friendship they'd begun developing.

However, there were moments when she regretted the fact that she knew the feel of his naked flesh pressed flush and hot to hers, the sound he made in the back of his throat when she took him inside of her, the sound he made when he climaxed, because of her, for her. The way desire darkened his intense blue eyes...

And this was definitely one of those moments when she regretted such intimate knowledge, as he reached around her to place a file on her desk at the same moment she absently stood and turned, not realizing he was there as she headed to refill her cup of coffee only to find herself standing so close to the man that she could feel the rhythm of his breathing, his chest expanding and pressing against her breasts, the contact making her nipples stiffen. She felt heat bloom inside of her, and knew it wouldn't have happened if she hadn't basically programmed her body to react to his in such a way. She'd taught her flesh -they'd taught their bodies- to respond to one another with such intense arousal by thoroughly rewarding such behavior. Her body instinctively recognized his, knew how he could make her feel.

Yes, it had taken her awhile to marshal such unwelcome reactions when they went back to work after their brief affair, to not get lost in memories that flushed her cheeks when she caught a whiff of his scent, or to not be distracted by a movement of his hands, or to not stare maybe a bit too much at his trim figure. But she had gotten to a very good place. It no longer affected her... not really.

But she'd never had him pressed up against her, not since they'd been naked and sweaty and thoroughly sated that last time before reluctantly parting ways. In fact, Merri thought she'd gotten over what was undeniably the best sex she'd ever had, had stopped thinking about it multiple times every day. Had stopped coveting her partner's attractive backside, and muscular arms and body that was just toned enough to be utterly delicious. And his goddamned sexy blue eyes...

Eyes that she made the enormous mistake of now looking into, that looked back at her with the sort of intent that most definitely did not belong in the workplace.

The tip of his nose was practically brushing against hers, his lips barely an inch from hers as he wet them with a subconscious swipe of his tongue. His hand, as firm and strong as it was in her lamentably -and _wonderfully_\- vivid memories, had settled on her hip.

And then they were kissing, her empty coffee mug clattering to the floor as she was consumed by the embrace, her hands instinctively rising to wrap about his neck and pull him even closer. Briefly, she tried to figure out who had made the first move, who had broken their bargain, but honestly she had no idea. Maybe she'd leaned into him and he'd closed the distance. Maybe it had been entirely her advance. Maybe they'd been drawn together at precisely the same moment. Maybe... god, did he know how to kiss her _just so_, so that she couldn't even think straight.

Merri lost herself entirely in the embrace for the minute or so that felt both an eternity and no time at all, before it waned to a natural end.

"Pride won't be... back for another for-ty minutes," Chris said, his drawl broken with breathlessness.

She stepped back from him, and a sheepish look colored his face in a shade of pink. Was he really embarrassed about suggesting such a thing? When he knew every inch of her naked body?

Smiling in a coy manner she had no business sporting, she took her partner's hand and led him off to the first-floor bathroom. Not only was Pride in a meeting downtown for the next hour or so, with absolutely no hope of escape, but Patton Plame was doing consulting work for the main office. The Navy intelligence specialists had packed up shop a month ago. And they were all by their lonesome, holding down the fort... Completely alone… Just the two of them...

Nevertheless, Merri locked the door behind her, the click echoing through the tiled space, and making Chris grin a mischievous grin before he was suddenly on her, kissing her, touching her, caressing her with such an eager intensity that he'd backed her against the wall in a matter of seconds.

"I been wantin' ta touch ya for weeks," he said between nips at the sensitive skin of her throat, his hands untucking her blouse and delving beneath to run calloused fingers over her bare stomach, and over her bra to cup her breasts, making her moan and forget entirely about all the reasons she'd decided it could only be that one weekend, just the one, with Chris LaSalle.

Because no one ever had, or ever would touch her quite like he did. Even in his haste to remove her boots, pants and underwear, his attention to her never wavered, his hands caressing her bare skin in just the right places, his lips imparting stirring kisses on her thighs and hips, returning to her mouth as he rose to his feet, reached for his belt...

Do you have a condom?" she asked, barely posessing the faculties to remember safety first.

"Uh... mebbe," Chris looked at her curiously, his brow furrowed slightly. "We ain't never needed one before…"

"You know I was sleeping with James, before he ran off again. And who knows where his penis has been," she said, holding his gaze, wondering at the brief flash of jealousy in his eyes, something he'd displayed none of in the two months since they'd had their brief affair. Not when she continued to date Sam, not when James popped back up into her life. Hell, Chris had been so easy-going about it, that he'd even teased her about her multiple men problem. Little did he know, he was just as much on her mind and in her contemplations as the other two when she'd considered her options (more like, 'problems'). Not that she thought LaSalle was truly an option. Because he wasn't... he hadn't been. Only she'd never stopped thinking about him, being with him, the sex of course, but also all the fun they had, teasing, joking, busting bad guys, sharing meals and stories about family and friends. Chris was her friend, and briefly her lover. But James had been an unfinished chapter in her history. And she hated loose ends. So she'd been drawn to him by the ties that had never been truly severed.

Of course, he was a runner, just like her, just like she'd been. And he'd vanished on her again, but not before she could rightly tell him off, tell him if he left this time, he left her life for good. There would be no going back for them again. One second chance was all she was willing to give.

"Could try this 'un," Chris said, brandishing an old beat-up condom packet he'd retrieved from his wallet. "Can't guarantee it's not expired. Date's rubbed off."

Merri plucked it from his hand, studied the old prophylactic.

"I always made him wear one," she said. "So it's your call."

"I ain't been with nobody but you for a long time, Merri," Chris said, that adorable bit of timidity showing through that was rare in the normally confident man. Then he grinned that stupid charming grin of his before kissing her and tossing the old condom aside. She made a mental note to make sure it made it into the trash can later, or someone might get suspicious about what their coworkers were up to in their absence. And then once again, she forgot everything in the entire world but the man embracing her.

And why did he feel so good? Just as good as before. There'd been all sorts of doubt in her mind, that she was romanticizing being with Chris LaSalle because she could no longer have him. But oh, lord, she hadn't been. And she couldn't figure out precisely what it was that made him the most fantastic lover she'd ever had, would likely ever have. James had been good. She wasn't going to lie to herself just because he'd more or less broken her heart. Sex with him had always been satisfying and fun. But Chris... What was it about him?

James was taller, leaner. Chris shorter and more muscular. But when it came to their male anatomy, they weren't very different. She knew those portions of their flesh likely better than they themselves did. And without side-by-side comparison, Merri couldn't say one man was larger, smaller, thicker, thinner, or differently shaped than the other. So she could only conclude that it wasn't a physical difference, but one of personality and maybe soul, the way they made love to her, the way Chris made love to her...

He made the world fade away into dull hues and muffled sounds, until he was the only vivid thing in the universe, the only real thing, its center, her entire world. When they were together, he was everything. Absolutely everything.

It could've only been a couple minutes. Or it could've been hours. Merri had no way of telling. And neither did she care, as her body turned to jelly and she braced herself against the wall to prevent herself from slumping entirely to the floor, which while not filthy, was still probably not the cleanest surface to find oneself bare-assed upon.

Chris had his arms braced against the wall, hands on either side of Merri's head, panting as he regained his breath. Admittedly, he'd done all the work, holding her up against the ceramic tile when she wrapped both legs about his waist and he'd pounded her determinedly into the wall like a carpenter with a particularly stubborn nail.

They began to laugh, bubbling, giddy laughter over their naughty romp, as they once more stared into one another's eyes. His blue ones were lively, the skin crinkling at their corners as he chuckled, until finally he leaned in and kissed her gently, affectionately on the corner of her mouth and went to the sink to clean himself up. She focused on her heaving chest, on slowing her breathing, not daring to yet leave the support of the wall as the post-coital flood of endorphins tingled in her limbs and deep in her belly, her muscles feeling pleasantly weak and exhausted.

Ever the gentleman, Chris LaSalle returned to her with a wet paper towel and proceeded to tenderly clean her up as well, the tepid water raising goose bumps on her skin as it swiped over her naked thighs, before he tossed it away, recovered her clothes and helped her into her panties and trousers, put her boots on her feet, supporting her loose-limbed, sexually-sated body as he did so.

"Thanks," she said when he rose to his full height, placing him straight at eye level with her once more wearing her heeled leather boots.

"I'm the one who should probably be thankin' ya," he said. "Ya have no idea how crazy it was makin' me, not bein' able ta touch ya, kiss ya..."

"Fuck me?"

He looked briefly insulted by the vulgarity, but she smiled wryly at him and he broke out in a grin, shaking his head.

"Yeah, that, too," he said. And then he was pinning her with that unsettling, captivatingly intense version of his dark blue gaze. "I can't seem ta resist ya. Why is that?"

Merri could sympathize. She placed a hand on his cheek.

"I find myself facing the same problem, Chris…

And I have no idea why."

* * *

**A/N: Well, so much for the rules of the deal they made… **


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Short but smutty ;-) Don't worry, we're working up to some relationship plot and eventual resolution. (I promise it's not just smut for smut's sake).**

* * *

He was going to pay for this later, in some yet unknown way. Because the universe wasn't so benevolent as to allow him _this _much pleasure without balancing it out with a whole lotta pain. The question was whether that would be facing off with a particularly nasty baddie on a case in the near future, or whether the inevitable hurt would arise from the woman currently giving him so much pleasure he thought his head might implode.

What was it about Meredith Brody that was so intoxicating, so addicting that he just couldn't stop wanting her?

Chris had been with women who were physically similar to her before, slender yet sporting delicious curves. Full breasts, a slim waist, round hips, a delectable backside and shapely legs. She was beautiful. And she felt even better. Warm and silky and -_oh_\- so unbelievably tight. How was such a self-proclaimed promiscuous woman so goddang _tight_?

"You like this, Chris?"

Merri leaned down, the palms of her hands flat and electric against his chest, and pinned him with the wanton gaze of her pretty, pretty eyes. God, they were beautiful. Maybe it was her dark brown eyes, round and expressive and soulful that made her the sexiest woman he'd ever encountered, let alone bedded. Maybe it was her feisty, impassioned soul itself.

He groaned, a proclamation of the pleasure building within him and the desperate hunger for its culmination, and all for her, because of her, -_unh_\- inside of her.

She rolled her hips in an undulating fluid movement that was more sultry than any dance of the seven veils ever performed, all the while her hands and eyes teasing the rest of him. Her lips were soft and lush and greedy against his, her tongue insistent and playful as it demanded entrance to his mouth. And even after the kiss as intoxicating as the rest of the bewitching woman ended, the taste of the sweet red wine she'd drunk with dinner lingered like a drug. _She_ was like a drug. The most addicting one ever conceived. And he was hooked.

And god help him, she knew it.

Her big brown eyes flashed mischievously at him, her grin the pinnacle of 'vulpine.' Or maybe it was more 'wolfish.' Either way, the woman was certainly a wily and wild creature beneath that self-erected cage. Once she let you in past the gates... heaven help you, you would be pounced upon and devoured before you even realized you'd gained entry.

"Tell me," she said.

"What?" Like he could follow any train of thought -_especially one not originating in his own brain_\- with such distractions as her lush body straddling his hips, moving in a simultaneously mesmerizing and exhilarating way.

"Tell me how it feels."

Oh, fuck. Tell her? Tell her that it was like heaven? No. Too sinful, too carnally blissful to be heaven. It was like having his soul forcefully removed and set free into the wilds. It was glorious. Intoxicating. Liberating. Captivating... It was... It was... There were no words to adequately describe how it felt to be with the woman, surrounded by the heat of her body, the scent of her, the sound of her lust-roughened voice and low moans, to be captured by her eyes, by her passion, by her flesh.

"Tell me what you want."

Her fingernails bit into his chest like a retriever sinking its teeth into its prized toy, a little rough, a little affectionate, but all stubborn possession. Her eyes bored into his, scouring every inch of him, demanding every part of him, and accepting nothing less.

When he could only lie there, reveling in her, entirely captivated by her, she suddenly stopped moving, the heat and friction of her flesh claiming his rapidly ebbing away. Instinctively, he thrust his hips upward, but she was quick and shifted, denying him the satisfaction of plunging deep into her once more. Instead, he felt the comparatively cool bedroom air caress him rather than her hot flesh. Her hands ran tenderly over his chest, but her eyes were all steel.

"Tell me what you want."

Maybe she meant for him to tell her some dirty scenario, but there really was only one reply, one thing he wanted.

"You."

He grabbed her as determinedly as she'd been handling him and pulled her face down to his, kissing her more aggressively, more possessively than he ever had. Honestly, before this time, he had played the dominate partner with her, but only at her will, and always, always kept the possessive urges he'd felt at bay, knowing her independent nature, the fact that they'd made no real commitment, that they in fact had agreed there would be nothing of substance between them. But she'd fucking asked for it. She'd shown her desire to claim him, to make him submit to the claim. And the gloves were off.

"You're all I want, Merri," he said, locking eyes with those intense, deep dark pools of hers.

Her hands and then her body rewarded him for his submission to being claimed by her. And god help him he'd surrender it all -his flesh, his life, his soul- for her. And not just for the way she made him feel, the way she felt, or a touch, a kiss, a caress. But just for a single such look from her beautiful eyes like the one she gave him when she climaxed atop him, staring down into him with a look of pure primal satisfaction.

Chris LaSalle was hers.

But Merri Brody had another thing coming if she thought he wouldn't claim her as his own in return. Although, admittedly, she'd be much more difficult to capture than he was.

The question was how to make her _want_ to submit to being possessed by him?

* * *

**A/N: Whoops, looks like their 'casual thing' has turned into something more serious than they'd ever imagined. But how is Chris going to convince his independent-minded lover that she wants to be his?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: This is really sort of a second part for the last chapter…**

**WARNING: COARSE LANGUAGE**

* * *

This was gonna be tricky. The woman was tough, and could call on her vast reservoir of strength to put up a barrier of pure reserve and disaffected attitude that he knew was bullshit but could never quite figure out how to call her out on it. She'd gone months without seeming to be adversely affected by him, despite her later confession that she'd wanted him badly the entire time. Maybe even, although he doubted it, as badly as he'd wanted her.

So in a pure abstaining-to-make-her-break strategy, Chris knew he would ultimately fail. Because he'd snap like a dry twig, show up at her door, possibly on his knees, begging for her to take him to bed. He'd barely kept it together before, even knowing, well, believing that it had been just that one weekend with her, and he'd never again get to taste the lingering flavor of her sweet-and-spicy skin on his lips. But they'd broken that rule of hers... spectacularly so.

And whether or not she was aware -that sly, wicked smile she sometimes gave him when no one else was looking spoke to her knowing precisely what she was at- Merri Brody _owned_ his ass. He was like a cock-blind, pussy-whipped teenager, god help him. Only worse, because he could swear that she'd taken part of his soul like normal lovers clipped a lock of hair. And he wanted his own keepsake, his own charm off from her in return.

The question was how to get it? How could he truly make the woman _his_? Willingly and totally _his_?

It had gone so far that he would except nothing less than absolute surrender and submission from her. Because, hell, she'd already gained that from his -apparently, quite easy- ass. And weren't true partnerships based on equal give and take?

It was her turn to give.

He studied her as she filled out some paperwork, seemingly intently focused. But it was obvious to him that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye. He stared at her, the slender curve of her neck, the elegant lines of her profile, that cute nose and delectable mouth, stubborn chin, the swell of her breasts... He licked his chops, feeling a hunger that had nothing to do with his stomach, one that he had to keep under control if he truly wanted to make her submit. Her gaze hitched upon him even as she still seemed to be filling out the paper on the desk in front of her, and it was all too much of an invitation to resist.

He'd have to be careful. He'd have to play it cool and collected, and reserved, just like Merri herself would. He'd have to tease her until she was desperate for him to take her, and then walk away. Again and again. And again, until she was downright begging for him to own her.

Dear lord, when had he become such a sexist jerk? Maybe he could excuse his bone-deep need to dominate her with the fact that she truly had already done so to him, had taken him, had marked him in a way that would never fade away. He would be dreaming about her when he was old and grey, lying on his death bed. About the way she made him feel, exposed and yet perfectly safe. About the way she touched him, kissed him, responded to his touch and his kiss. The way her skin turned to gooseflesh, the small hairs on the nape of her neck raising to tickle his fingertips as he passed them over her bare skin once more, so lightly the pressure of his touch was detectable more by intuition than physical reaction.

She whimpered, a sound so quiet that he never would've heard it had he not been listening acutely for a sign that he'd cracked her stoic exterior. Agent Brody only ever allowed as much emotion show as she deemed acceptable in any given situation, which meant she had softened towards the very open and close-knit office of NCIS agents, taking a cue as to the appropriate sort of behavior from them. Well, King and him, they were perhaps a little to expressive of their feelings for the more 'professional' agent, but she'd warmed up to them and their ways. But never had she let even a hint of her attraction to Chris show while at work... well, in the presence of their coworkers. Because there _had _been that quickie in the bathroom that one day, which only proved that she was susceptible to teasing, to caving to her lust.

But perhaps even in her more reserved moods, the signs had likely been there. Only he hadn't known her like he did now, not even after that one intensely intimate weekend. After a good number more of such encounters, in which he may be willing to admit the possibility of having lost his heart, and definitely a good measure of his soul to the woman, he could read her like a book. And not even a complicated one, at that. No, that was wrong. She could never be called 'uncomplicated'. Definitely a complex volume, that woman. Just he had somehow acquired knowledge to understand her, like he had a doctorate -okay, not a doctorate, but definitely a master's degree in Merri Brody Studies.

"Can I help you with something, LaSalle?" she asked, her pen still furiously scribbling at the form laid out on her desk. Okay, that either meant he hadn't done enough to distract. Or too much, and she was trying to push him away before he did more.

"Nah," he said, leaning over shoulder, letting his lips brush against the delicate shell of her ear, as he reached for her empty coffee mug. He was rewarded with more than just the shiver across her bare skin. This time she shifted almost imperceptibly in her chair. "Just thought ya might wanna refresh."

He gave her a smile when her dark eyes pinned him with a suspicious look, and then quickly walked off to the kitchen. When he returned and handed her now steaming mug back, he made sure to let his fingers be stupid and sluggish, extending the contact with her slightly cool, slender hand. He made sure to stand too close all day long, to 'accidentally' brush against her, to touch her lightly whenever no one could see, and to allow his appetite for her show through in every look her gave her.

And it seemed to work, because at the end of the day, as they walked out the door, she whispered in that damned seductive tone of hers that made him dig his fingers into his palm in order to not cave entirely, "My place or yours?"

"Can't tonight. I'll hafta take a rain check," he said, surprised how very cool and collected he sounded. She was good, but even she couldn't entirely suppress the surprise that flitted across her face. After all, he had been coming on to her quite fiercely all day. He wondered how long it would take for his plan to work, since she seemed primarily confused, rather than disappointed or desperate.

Admittedly, Chris had always known he was a bit of a tease. It went along with possessing a flirtatious nature, in combination with not actually being a one-night-stand sort of guy. But after this, if he succeeded, he'd be a downright manipulative asshole. But the woman's barriers were so difficult to get through, he had to coax her out with a trail of tempting bait, and then snare her, claim her for his own.

Honestly, he hoped she would realize what he was doing, sooner rather than later, and then choose to leave her citadel to meet him on neutral ground, to stand together on equal footing. Or better yet, to knock down her walls and invite him in to stay. Hopefully, forever.

* * *

**A/N: Will all the teasing and tempting yield the results Chris desires? Will Merri catch on to his game? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thought I had forgotten about this one, too, huh? Well, I sort of did. But I'm beginning to have the Cherri feels again. So some more of this ridiculous romance/smut fic.**

* * *

Chris LaSalle was trying to play games with her. The only questions were whether he thought he was actually getting away with it, and why the hell he was attempting to manipulate her at all? He could have her anytime. Didn't he know that? Didn't he equally know that his attempt at messing with her was beginning to irritate the control freak in her (which she was not too vain to admit possessing)? And the part of her who liked to play games was chomping at the bit to answer the challenge.

If she set it free...

They'd be in the midst of a game of sexual tension chicken. And the end result was liable to be someone burning up in a fiery crash.

Merri looked away from the two-way mirror, the scene of Pride doing his one-man rendition of 'Good Cop Bad Cop' on the unsuspecting suspect, in order to gauge her fellow-agent-turned-friend-turned-lover-turned-adversary's mood today. It was quite apparent which role he was fulfilling at the moment, as she caught him full-on staring at her, with those goddamn intense blue eyes of his.

God, she hated when he gave her _that_ look. His stupid, adorable, charming mischievous little boy grin was goddamned bad enough, inevitably melting her insides. But that seriously intense look of his, that seemed to flay her very soul from her body... It didn't _melt _her insides. It sublimated them, solids instantly rendered vaporous. Didn't he have any clue? Didn't he know she'd be utterly useless to him in such a state, destroyed by his razing gaze?

Or is that what he wanted?

She began to page through all of their encounters in her mind, likely a fatal mistake given that her libido was currently like a tightly coiled spring, bound to be set off even by the minutest change in pressure, let alone another twist. But she found the answer she was looking for, even as her body temperature seemed to rise several degrees over her exploring such recollections as the taste of his sweat-beaded skin and the feel of his aroused flesh filling her, torturing her with sweet ecstasy, plying her with such delicious friction...

And then she realized why he was playing these games, teasing her, working her up to a high-strung state of sexual frustration, and then walking away. He wanted to control her. Well, not control her. That wasn't at all the man's style. But perhaps, he didn't want to always be _controlled_ by her. In all of their encounters, she was undeniably the dominant partner, even when she'd let him lead, when he'd _taken _her. Because that's how she thought of it, even afterwards, even now when -if it weren't for that last iron thread holding her resolve in place- she'd beg, yes, _beg_ the man to take her. Because in her mind, subconscious or conscious alike, it was only ever because she 'allowed' him to have sex with her. She had never thought of it as his granting her the honor of possessing his body, but that was precisely what their relations were. Them being together, it was wondrous and amazing, and she was as much his as he was hers...

Damn. She hadn't let it show, hadn't let him see her feelings, how much she goddamned liked him, respected him, wanted to be with him. And at this point, she wasn't sure that even a direct conversation about her feelings would suffice.

It was quite the conundrum.

...

"What's this?" Chris looked up from the small piece of paper with an expression of pure confusion. Which made perfect sense, since without context, it seemed quite random for her to show up at his door, ask to come in, and without any further explanation, hand him the folded note with the single phrase written by hand in black pen.

"It's a Safe Word."

His eyebrows lifted before they furrowed even deeper, his lips pursing and his head cocked like a dog trying his damnest to understand a person holding a long conversation with him without any words he could recognize.

"A. Safe. Word," he repeated, his rather pretty lips forming the words slowly, feeling out each syllable. And then his irresistible boyish grin broke out, transforming his entire expression. "Ya mean like a _sex_ thing?"

"More like a _trust_ thing," Merri said, locking eyes with him, adding with a sultry smile, "But it can be a sex thing, if you want.

"The point is that I don't think you understand how I feel about you, Chris. This thing we're doing... It's not just about possessing you. I didn't mean to be so controlling of our sexual encounters. I enjoy the intimacy we share and I intend to prove it. I like you. I respect you. I trust you. I _love_ you."

She felt her eyes grow wide with shock to match that in the set of blue ones staring back at her. She hadn't intended to say _that_. She hadn't even known it was what she had been feeling. It wasn't, was it?

Oh, shit. It was.

It undeniably was, as she stared into the surprised, affectionate, inviting eyes of her lover. That same feeling washed over her, of feeling entirely exposed beneath Chris LaSalle's unwavering blue gaze, as when he made love to her, stripped her of all her barriers, leaving her naked, vulnerable. She hadn't managed to hide her heart and soul from the man. So why should she be surprised she'd lost them to him?

Why was he surprised?

A burning in her lungs informed her that she'd stopped breathing, and she sucked in a sharp, deep, gasping breath, both unable and unwilling to cover her own shock over the revelation.

And then Chris was grinning at her in that damned endearing 'mischievous little boy' way. He crumpled up the paper she'd given him, tossing the 'safe word' aside before his expression sobered and he stepped in so close that his chest brushed against the tips of her breasts, and the scent of him filled her nose, mouth and lungs. His hands cupped her face, eyes as deep and beautiful as the night sky piercing her. Didn't he know that he didn't have to try to force his way into her? Whether she wished it or not, her soul threw the doors wide open before he even knocked on the door.

"We don't need no 'safe word' or demonstrations of trust," he said. Lust, love, the combination of both, twisted deep in her chest and low, low in her belly, irrevocably entwined for her where Chris LaSalle was concerned. "I'm sorry, Mere."

Her brow twitched in confusion at his expression, still intense yet somehow softened, an apologetic frown on his lips.

"I was too distracted by my own feelin's... We always been playin' a game -an' I'm none too sure we won't always be- I could only think in terms of my losin'..." He smiled bitter-sweetly, gently stroking his calloused thumbs over her cheekbones. "Losin' my heart and my soul ta ya... wonderin' how ta get ya ta surrender a piece of yours ta me in return."

She'd been resting her own hands on his forearms, needing the contact, but wanting to let him lead, let him show her how he felt, to accept or reject her, to choose to be her equal, the other part of her soul, to complete her or leave her forever unwhole, wanting. But now, now she wrapped her arms around him, gripping the back of his neck as he leaned in, meeting her for a searing kiss that turned her joints to jelly. His hands slipped to her waist, steadying her, catching her. And she would've felt foolish, behaving like the 'heroine' in a poorly written romance novel, except she'd finally decided to just let go -like she had a choice in it- and embrace her... her _love_ for this ridiculous, adorable, sexy, loyal, affection, juvenile, stubborn, annoying, funny, beautiful man. Beautiful man who could -oh, fucking, hell- kiss with a talent nobody had a right to. Perhaps, her body was rewarding her for giving in to her feelings, adding an additional sensual layer to the embrace, but dear god, he was barely touching her , his hands caressing her lower back, his mouth claiming every part of hers, and-

"What?" Chris whispered into her hair as she laughed quietly into his neck.

"I-" Merri briefly considered keeping it to herself, but decided she didn't care to start building up the walls again. He'd somehow made it through them all, and it was her history of reserve, withdrawal, that had made him feel disconnected from her, even as he lost his heart to her, which had caused him to try to play games with her feelings.

"I'm so pathetically wet for you right now," she said into his neck, blushing, nipping at the skin of his throat with her teeth, making him groan, for some form of retribution. "Like some overly hormonal teenage girl who's never been touched before."

He pulled back a little, forcing her to look into his amused face, smug smile curling his lips, facetious twinkle in his eyes.

"Really?"

Merri rolled her eyes but smiled. She should be happy that he could make her feel this way, that he could turn her on so damned much with just a kiss that her underwear were soaked through. But honestly, it sort of poked at her competitive streak. She'd get him back. Oh, she knew she could... but she supposed the fun would be over quick if she cupped him, stroked and rubbed him through his jeans, got him off before they'd even made out a little more. It might be worth it, however, to have his hands gripping her shoulders tightly, fingers digging in with bruising force, as he moaned her name, begged, his knees going weak and his weight tugging at her, his face buried in her neck, having to catch him as he collapsed to the floor, or not quite managing to support him and being pulled down with him, having him curl his loose-boned body about hers, whimpering as he came down from the orgasmic high.

He grabbed her wrist just as her hand found the bulge in the front of his pants, staring her down and tutting her a scolding.

God, he did know her _so_ well.

He deposited her naughty hand on the nape of his neck, placed his own larger ones on her hips, leaning in to rub the tip of his nose against hers, a playful, all-too-slow-for-her-taste, sign of affection, before he kissed her again, this time less intensely, just enough to elicit a firm tug of arousal from between her thighs and a moan from deep in her chest.

"I love you, Merri," he said, his voice soft but sure. She grinned like a loon. She just couldn't help it. And then she shifted, rubbing her uncomfortably moist thighs together, trying to quiet that insistent pulling sensation in her vagina as if it were an itch. But it needed a particular kind of scratch, or balm, as it were. And there was only one man who could give it to her.

"Are you going to stop teasing me now?" she asked, moving her hands down his back until she had a firm grip on his ass, forcing him against her with a firm squeeze of his backside that had his erection pressing against her sweet spot. "Or is this when you leave me hanging again? And I have to take care of matters with my own two hands?"

His eyes bulged a little.

"Keep up that talk an' I might, jus' so as I can watch, ya naughty li'l minx.'

He scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman's -or probably more aptly put, caveman's- carry and headed for his bedroom. She laughed, giddy from the rush of blood to her head and the warm swollen feeling of her heart. They were going to make love. Oh, they'd done so before, she knew it. It hadn't all just been casual sex and fucking. Only, now there was the added thrill of the complete honesty between them. The fact that they were in love was out in the open, would be in every look, touch, caress as they joined their bodies.

And Merri wasn't sure she'd ever experienced that before.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it sort of became entirely side-tracked by smut… oops… (#sorrynotsorry)**

* * *

_Oh, dear lord baby jesus._

Chris wasn't certain at all that he hadn't just died and gone to heaven. Merri's slender limbs were wrapped about him, holding his sweat-slicked body flush to hers, her sweet heat still gripping him tight, pliable muscles convulsing about his softening flesh, milking him dry, leaving him in a blissful stupor of utter satisfaction.

More than satisfaction. Pure contentment. Joy. Happiness. Serenity. Peace.

God, the woman could drive him to distraction, frustratingly so. Sometimes, she got his blood so riled up... And not always in a positive, affectionate sort of way. They had disagreements, arguments. But he supposed the fact that he admittedly hated her every once in a while was the reason that loving her was so damned wonderful. The contrast heightened the connection he felt with her. It was so much sweeter to have her cuddling against his side, humming happily as she nuzzled his neck, after her giving him the cold shoulder at work because he'd disagreed with some logically-arrived upon hunch (but it was still a hunch in his book) she'd had. His arousal was that much more poignant when she jumped him in an amorous mood, lust and love filling her eyes, after those same pretty brown eyes of hers had been shooting daggers at him earlier in the day.

Initially, Meredith Brody came across as reserved, cool, collected, level-headed. But he'd discovered the secret truth to her heart. She was an immensely passionate person. And he loved every inch of her, mind, body and soul.

Whatever he'd done to deserve her love, must have been in a previous life. Because he couldn't recall doing a damn thing to merit even a moment of feeling like this, of being with such a beautiful and intriguingly, arousingly complex woman.

"Um, Chris?

"Mm...?" He rubbed the tip of his nose against her neck, breathing in the scent of her, which at the moment consisted heavily of perspiration and sex, underlined with her shampoo and soap, the perfume-y 'fresh breeze' laundry detergent of the now soiled sheets tangled about their sweaty bodies.

"I do like snuggling with you afterward..." There was laughter in Merri's voice, the giddy, affectionate, melodic kind that always instantly warmed his heart. Not that it could get any warmer at the moment. "But maybe you could, um..."

Chris groaned with the effort of pushing his heavy, boneless-feeling body up off from his lover. He had collapsed upon her... had a tendency to do so whenever they finished with him on top. Couldn't help it really. Merri took everything he had, and he willingly gave it. It left him in a state that could almost be called 'out of body' only that it was being aware of every buzzing nerve in his flesh, every humming synapse in his head, that sent him there. And all because of her. Her touch. Her body. Her eyes. Her kiss. Her love.

"How long...?" he asked as he pulled out of her, his voice husky and low, doubtlessly wrecked from noises he didn't remember making. He was actually a little hard... again? There was no way he hadn't completely spent himself when she'd dug her fingernails into his ass, her body taking him so deeply and squeezing him so tightly as she climaxed with his name on her lips... So he must've been out a while... Merri laughed again, as he flopped onto his back and she cuddled into his side, throwing a leg over him and running her lovely slender fingers down his chest and stomach.

"Probably a good ten minutes. Maybe more," she said, her soft fingertips (well, except for her well-calloused trigger finger) roaming southward. It had to be longer than that for his body to already be responding to her with some considerable interest.

"Ya get a li'l too much amusement outta how ya wreck me, don't ya?" He put a knuckle under her chin, raising her face so that he could steal a kiss. She tasted -oh, god, yes- sweet with a pleasantly bitter tang, like a dry wine.

"The truth?" Her fingers wrapped about him, stroking him gently, in no rush to get him hard or inside of her, just an absent sort of affectionate touching.

"I think I can handle it," he said, sighing as a fresh sensation of pleasure was draped over him like a cozy blanket. Merri sure as hell knew how to build a slow-burning fire, just as well as setting off a flash-burn. She was pressing her lips to his chest in small, slow kisses, lazily working her way around his right nipple which had puckered, the surrounding skin turning to gooseflesh over her teasing, her hand tenderly fondling his balls.

"I _fucking_ love it," she whispered, her voice taking on a gravelly edge that made the heat blossom and flare in his groin. "I love that you don't hold anything back. Ever. That you give me so much of yourself that there's literally nothing left."

"That's a pretty way of puttin' it. Most would prob'bly jus' say I get what I want an' then pass out on ya."

She laughed again, a gentle bubbling sound, like a babbling brook. Yup, she certainly was in a good mood tonight.

"Well, that would be unfair of me to say, considering I get what I want, too."

"Glad ta hear it," he said running his hand down the elegant slope of her back until he was cupping her round, perfect -absolutely perfect, not too firm, not too soft- ass. He urged her a little and she complied, shifting to lie almost entirely on top of him, giving him better access to her gorgeous body. He kissed her neck as he traced her curves. Women were beautiful creatures, soft lines that flowed into one another, graceful and appealing. And Meredith Brody... He just couldn't get enough of her. Drinking her in with his eyes. Memorizing her with his fingertips. Making her sigh or moan. Or say his name in _that_ tone of voice, with such vulnerable, unguarded desperation.

"You. Are. So. Dang. Beautiful," he said, capturing her face in his hands and staring into the deep, warm depths of her eyes, which were inarguably the first on a long list of beautiful attributes she possessed. "I love ya."

She'd propped herself up, her palms flat on his chest as she stared down into him. And it was the seriousness that had replaced the playfulness in her expression that took his breath away.

"I love you, Chris." She leaned down and kissed him. And maybe he'd just had her entwined with him, as close as they could physically get, but he found himself wanting, _needing _her again. It was exhilarating and terrifying to realize that he couldn't remember a life without needing her, couldn't imagine ever existing without wanting her, loving her.

She'd begun kissing his jaw, his throat, and continued to blaze a trail of heat down his chest and stomach, delving her tongue into his navel and making him laugh and tug at her hair to get her to stop. She giggled. Another trait he'd never expected to discover. Merri Brody, giggling. And then he was squirming as she briefly tickled his sides, and then she was -_oh, fuck! Big Al's Sweet Fat Ass!_

He felt the tremor vibrate through him as Merri laughed around her mouthful of his flesh, and then the cold air replacing her warmth as her lips released him with a wet 'pop'.

"Did you just invoke your college mascot while I was...?" She trailed off into more laughter.

"Mebbe," he said, a blush of embarrassment replacing the flush of arousal heating his face and neck as he realized he'd said that aloud.

She pushed herself back up his body so that she was lying on top of him with her forearms resting on his chest, studying his face with an amused grin curving her pretty lips, which were shimmering with moisture from the use she'd just put them to... begun to put them to, until he'd disrupted her amazing attentions with his stupid mouth.

"You are so weird, sometimes," she said, big brown eyes staring into him, sparkling along with the now full-blown smile she was sporting. "I love it."

She kissed him soundly on the mouth, and there was a salty edge to her bittersweet flavor, which he knew was from his own body. He groaned as she plunged her tongue past his lips, to embrace and thrust against his own, the neatly trimmed thatch of curls between her thighs rubbing against his now fully erect flesh. She pulled away, settling to straddle his legs one more, wearing a new smile, of the mischievous, lascivious variety.

"Now, where was I?"

She leaned down, her sure grasp finding him, her -_oh, fuck, yes_\- warm, wet mouth engulfing him once more. And then he lost all coherency. It wasn't until she was cuddling up to his side, licking her lips and then nuzzling his throat that his brain could string two words together, let alone send them to his mouth.

"Ya didn't hafta go an' prove it," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, stroking her bicep as she snuggled tighter against his side.

"Prove what?" she asked, that self-satisfied tone to her voice that she couldn't hide from him.

"Prove that ya love wreckin' me."

"Well, if you didn't make it so fun..."

"Just ya wait, ya little succubus." He let his fingers wander down her naked back, caressing the full, round curve of her ass, and then slipping beneath to the slick, soft flesh between her thighs. "When I recover enough, I'm gonna lick ya and drink ya so deep that you'll be beggin' me ta fill that place I've sucked dry."

He felt her literally become wetter, shuddering and squirming against his touch.

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya, Merri?"

She whimpered, obviously resisting the urge to moan or beg. But she _would _beg, plead with him to use his mouth on her. And then he'd make her scream his name in mindless ecstasy. He stroked her wet, needy flesh as he cupped her breast with his free hand, gently raising the large mound of flesh as he bent his head to pull her nipple into his mouth, first teasing her with his tongue and then using his teeth before he sucked unrelentingly hard at the stiff bud of flesh. Her back arched, her body thrusting against his side as she moaned.

He released her now very pink, puckered nipple, shifting slightly to kiss her, thrust his tongue into her mouth and tease her in all the ways he knew she liked. From her stupefied reaction -and the moaning- he knew she was contemplating having his eager tongue applied to other parts of her, parts he currently was slowly stroking with his fingers. He abruptly stopped, pulled away from her and settled flat on his back, reclining languidly amongst the tangled bed sheets.

Merri growled in frustration as he grinned. If she wanted to play hard to get, she'd mistakenly used up her leverage when she'd given him that spectacular blow job, leaving him utterly sated. She would have to admit that she wanted him to use his sinful mouth on her, because she couldn't use his own arousal against him, make him perform without giving him what he wanted. And he wanted her to admit that he could wreck her just as well as she did him, that she wanted him to.

Crawling on top of him, she sunk down so that her large, round breasts laid heavy on his chest, her stiff nipples poking into his skin. She knew he loved when she laid on top of him like this, every inch of her chest, belly, pelvis and legs pressed flush to his, so much skin to skin contact, and allowing him to run his hands down her back, to fondle her heart-shaped ass. He resisted, and she sighed forlornly.

"What do you want, Chris?"

"I want ya to tell me what _you_ want."

"You know what I want."

He chuckled. It could be frustrating at times. But it was also what was so fucking fun about their relationship. Games. They couldn't help but play with one another, turning perhaps some things that shouldn't be into a battle of wills. But it wasn't _always _like that. They often made love without words, willingly surrendering to one another, all open and unreserved. And it was wonderful. But he imagined always having soft, tender sex could get boring. Merri and him... he didn't see them getting bored anytime soon.

She huffed, pushed herself up, glaring down at him.

"Fine, you perverted control freak-"

He gave her a look that threatened withholding entirely if she weren't careful. A message she obviously received, for she placed on a playful mock smile. He knew the anger beneath it was all an act, too. Part of the game they were playing.

"-perverted control freak whom I love," she said with false sweetness. "I want you to fuck me with your tongue, which I suspect just might be forked."

He laughed, and she joined him as he grabbed her, flipped her onto her back and began kissing his way down her belly. After some little time and much exuberant attention on his part, she did scream his name in mindless ecstasy. And Chris licked the taste of her off his lips, humming happily to himself as he gathered her limp, trembling, whimpering form against his body, knowing he could wreck her completely with his affection.

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**A/N: One more chapter… although I'm feeling a little plot bunny hopping around the recesses of my brain, and it's one concerning a trope that I've never really written before (Cherri seems to do that to me, make me consider writing plots/genres/themes/styles I've never tried or actively avoided).**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Last Installment of this story. (Sequel already in the works…)**

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"Merri-"

"What?" She asked, as she got a leg over her lover and settled onto his lap. It was almost always pleasant waking up in bed with Chris LaSalle, but she was in a spectacularly good mood this Sunday morning, wasn't exactly sure why, and also didn't care. Maybe it had been the sex the previous night. But it was always quite good, even those times when her own pleasure wasn't central, because she loved pleasuring Chris more than she anticipated achieving her own orgasm at his touch.

"Merri-"

She cut him off again, this time by sticking her tongue in his mouth. His natural taste had gone a bit sour with morning breath, but she could only manage to be a little put off by it, because his mouth was also warm and wet and his tongue playfully teased hers, his body equally warm and pleasantly solid beneath her thighs and buttocks, and hands as she braced herself against his chest, let them wander over the muscles of his torso, enjoying the strength of him.

She moaned in dissatisfaction and frowned as his hands moved from cupping her face to her shoulders and he gently but firmly pushed her away, pinning her with a serious gaze. Her stomach developed a little knot. Was he unhappy with her for some reason? She couldn't remember arguing with him about anything... yesterday, anyway. They had such differing tastes that they often found themselves possessing opposing opinions, but it tended to be about things such as which state the best rib eye came from, or what paired better with said cut of beef, a cab-sav or a porter. Maybe they'd been spending too much time together and he was ready for a break, about to tell her that they needed to slow down a bit, give themselves space to breathe. Oddly enough, for once in her life, Merri didn't want to pull in the reins, didn't want to hold back anything.

"Mer-"

"Yes?" She'd been feeling so light that she was giddy and she didn't want the heady, blissful sensation to go so quickly. And Chris did look quite determinedly serious, sighing heavily and giving a little frustrated growl over her continuous interruptions.

"Would ya please just listen ta me for a minute?" The words exploded out of his mouth with an edge that unfortunately killed her good mood instantly.

She bit the inside of her cheek, removed her hands from her lover's body, pulling the loose sheet up around her as if it might protect her from the wound she anticipated was coming. Why did she have to always think the worst? There was no reason...

Chris closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them and stared at her, into her in that piercing way of his. She would miss staring into those deep blue eyes as he settled inside of her, filled her.

"What I been tryin' ta say... What I been tryin' ta ask... Is, Meredith Brody, will ya marry me?"

Had time just frozen. Or maybe it was her. But she found herself shocked into complete immobility for several seconds. And then she laughed, her heart feeling so light that she wasn't sure it hadn't somehow managed to escape her body altogether.

"Oh, _Marry_. Not _Merri_," she said, when he was giving her a confused, somewhat disappointed look, not unlike a kicked puppy. "I thought you were saying my name, not-"

She leaned down, taking his face in her hands and kissed him fiercely, sloppily, resting her forehead against his when the embrace broke.

"I love you, Chris," she said. "I sincerely do. But how do we know it's not just the infatuation, passionate affair kind of love? How do we know it's the lifetime kind of love?"

"I know," he said. She couldn't help it. She gave him an incredulous look. He winked at her. "Because, darlin', ya ain't perfect."

She punched him in the chest, mostly playful, but a little bit not. She didn't interrupt him however, because she knew what she felt for him was unlike how she'd ever felt about anyone else, including James, whom she had actually agreed to, was going to, in point of fact, marry.

"We bicker over stupid stuff, but always seem to make up," he said. "Ya can be a bit of a know-it-all and a wine snob. Ya rearrange my kitchen pantry alphabetically even though you know I have it the way /I/ like it and that it bothers Cade when ya do it. But there's that bit of OCD in ya so 's ya jus' can't help doin' it. Ya steal the newspaper and do all of the puzzles with a pen so dark I can't read the articles on the other side. You're a bed and blanket hog. And ya snore."

"I don't snore!" Merri said, blushing, feeling both indignant and happy about the list of flaws her lover was reciting. Because no one actually liked to acknowledge their faults. But at the same time, Chris had noticed all of these things about her, experienced all of these drawbacks and yet still claimed to love her, wanted to _marry_ her.

"Ya snore like a big ol' bear if ya drink more than two glasses of wine." He grinned broadly at her, his hands resting on her flanks, his thumbs rubbing her hipbones.

"Well, you're not perfect, either, Mr. Hayseed-accent-so-thick-I-sometimes-don't-understand-a-word-coming-out-of-your-mouth," she said, placing her hands on his chest again, letting the sheet fall away from her naked body as she leaned forward, staring into his deep blue eyes. "You drag me to the dirtiest, noisiest dives in the city because you think they're fun even though you know they're not my scene. You eat horrible junk food, leave a trail of crumbs and lego blocks wherever you go. You put off doing your laundry just a little too long. And I hate to break it to you, but that varsity football t-shirt Cade gave you in high school literally is infested by mold and needs to go."

"Never gonna happen," Chris protested with a smile. "But ya still love me, don't ya?"

Merri was returning her lover's stupid-happy smile. He'd certainly proven his point.

"Yes, I still love your elephant-tattooed ass," she said, leaning in for a long languid kiss that had them moaning and grinding against one another, and completely breathless when they broke apart.

"Well?" He cupped her face, searching her eyes with his eager blue ones.

"We might just work," Merri said, her heart fluttering in a mixture of excitement, pleasure and anxiety. He'd left 'commitment-phobe and 'has a tendency to run away before those she cares about leave her' out of his list of her character flaws. "But I think we should try moving in together first."

"My place or yours?" His eyes lit up like those of a kid in the candy store.

"Ours," she said. "We should find a new place, just right for _us_."

"Our own place," he repeated, seeming to feel out the words as well as the idea. "I like it."

He tugged at her waist, lifting her off from him and slipping out from beneath her to roll out of bed.

"Chris, where are you going?" She was utterly confused. Honestly, she thought they might have a little morning sex, or at least fool around in bed on the lazy Sunday.

"Ta find _our place_," he said, pulling on yesterday's jeans, which were really last week's jeans. His laundry was overdue. What a surprise there. "C'mon. Let's go."

"Hold your horses," she said and he chuckled at her expression.

"It was your idea." She was kneeling on the edge of the bed and he took a few steps over to lean down and kiss her, one of those tender and affectionate embraces that made her close her eyes and lose herself. _Oh, please, more of that._ She didn't want to get dressed and be towed about town by an over exuberant man-child (yes, man-child whom she loved). "C'mon."

She blinked her eyes open when something soft hit her in the face... It was a sundress she'd worn over to his place, what, a month ago? She was wondering where it had gone... It smelled like his pile of dirty clothes. She hastily threw it back onto the bedroom floor like it were a smallpox blanket.

"I see several problems with your plan," she said in her serious 'interrogation' tone, which made him stop picking up various shirts and giving them the sniff test, most of which appeared to fail miserably if his expressions had been any indication. "Although you get major points for the go-get-it attitude... One: Shouldn't we call a realtor or check the paper first?"

"We can do that before we leave."

Merri only raised an eyebrow, which silenced him. She wasn't done yet.

"Two: It's Sunday. No one goes searching for an apartment or a house on a Sunday. Which brings me to Three: We probably need to discuss the criteria we want for our home first."

Chris opened his mouth. Shut it. Shrugged in acquiescence.

"And most importantly, Four: I don't want to get dressed and run around town and Five: You stink, 'Bama Boy. I love you, but you need a shower."

He nodded his head as if in serious contemplation of her argument, slowly making his way back towards where she was sitting on the bed.

"Fine," he said, announcing the conclusion of his considerations. "I'll shelve my premature exuberance in exchange for a shower."

Merri sighed in relief, and was about to flop back down onto the mattress and snuggle in for some serious morning laziness, but his eyes flashed, warning her that he wasn't done.

"If-" he continued, claiming her whole attention to hear his terms. "Ya join me an' wash my back for me." Yeah, right. _Wash his back_. She knew what he really meant. And she was more than amenable to that. She reached for him, circling her arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss to seal the deal. But he resisted briefly.

"And ya promise that we'll start lookin' at places tomorrow."

Merri grinned broadly.

"You got a deal, Christopher LaSalle."

"Do I ever, Meredith Brody."

And then he was kissing her like he were promising a thousand more, that he'd never stop kissing her, loving her. Oh, the One Time Only Deal she'd made with him, it had certainly backfired on her. It _was _still a One _Time _Only Deal... just for Life_time._

_END_

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**A/N: Well, these two just turn me into utter sappy, cheesy mush, don't they?**

**A/N2: Stay tuned for the sequel. ;-)**


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